


The Unnamed Feeling

by falling_angels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8686348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falling_angels/pseuds/falling_angels
Summary: In a Batman inspired story, Dean Winchester is left with a massive inheritance and family enemies who kidnap his little brother, who happens to have no idea who he is. A terrifying and thrilling adventure, he works with his best friend Charlie and his butler, Castiel, to find his brother and bring down the evil man behind the plot to destroy the Winchester name. Along the way, he unexpectedly falls in love with someone who has a very big secret. (Dean/Cas comes later, as a sidebar/addition to the main story)





	1. Prologue

Prologue 

“Dean, oh, we love you,” Mary whispered softy to her son as she laid him down on his bed, and tucked him under a race car blanket. She turned around as her husband John walked in, smiling, and she shushed him as he joined her in watching their sons eyes droop slowly and finally close. John wrapped his arms around Mary's waist and settled his head on her shoulder. She turned her head to meet his lips, and they stood there kissing for a minute before their baby boy in the other room began to whimper. 

“I’ll go get him, I don't want to wake Dean up again. Neither of them have been able to sleep well, have you noticed?” Mary asked John.

“Well, you know I could bring them to a better doctor, we have the money to,” John said, pulling away from Mary. “Money isn't a problem for us. It shouldn't be.”

“John, we talked about this. I don't want to bring our children up in that type of household. They should live a nice, normal life.”

“Okay. If you ever change your mind though, everything we could ever want and more is just a phone call away.”

“I know. I’m going to go put Sammy back to sleep, and then I’ll come to bed.” Mary kissed John, then leaned over to kiss Deans forehead, and walked out of the room. John sighed, and covered his face with his hands. He knew Mary had her reasons for not wanting to live the good life, but it was difficult to understand on his end. Letting his hands drop from his face and hang loosely at his side, John gave Dean a kiss on the forehead and left Deans room, making sure his nightlight was bright enough on his way out. 

It was a cool and quiet night in Kansas, but the air around the little four-year-old’s bed disturbed his peaceful sleep. He opened his eyes sleepily and turned over restlessly, attempting to fall back asleep again. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, Dean kicked back his sheets and slid out of bed, rubbing his eyes. He padded across the cold floorboards in his knitted socks, and peeked out into the hallway. Clutching to the door frame, he listened to see if he could hear where his parents were. Hearing nothing, Dean crept quietly towards the stairs to get a glass of milk from the kitchen. When he passed John and Mary’s bedroom, he looked in, and saw the TV lights flickering on his dad’s face, but his mom was nowhere in sight. Halfway down the stairs, he heard a soft noise coming from down the hall, in Sammy’s room. Curious, Dean tiptoed down the dark hallway towards the noises that kept coming from the room. 

Sensing something was wrong, Dean moved faster towards the closed door. He saw an orange light flickering under the door,  and sucked in a breath. Was that a fire? Dean quickly opened the door, and immediately froze.

“Mommy?” he whispered, terrified. The stranger standing above his mothers unmoving body whipped his head up, hissed a curse word, and ran over to the window, climbing out and sliding down a rope. Still frozen in place, the horrified Dean watched as the fire that had started burning on the carpet caught the edge of Mary’s white nightgown, and quickly spread across her body. Sammy started to cry, and Dean snapped out of his brief trance. He screamed in terror and ran over to his burning mother and tried to stop the fire from crawling up her face. Dean tried to pat the fire down with his hands, but only succeeded in burning his hands. When he saw the stab wounds on her abdomen, he cried her name over and over, as if that could bring her back. 

John crashed through the door, eyes widening as he saw his sons in danger of being burned to death. Flames were spreading up the legs of Sammy’s wooden crib, where he was wailing loudly, and Dean was using his bare hands to try to stop the fire. John ran over to Dean and pulled him away from his burning wife, and shoved him out the door. He picked up Sammy out of the crib and handed him to the crying Dean. 

“Dean, listen to me, take Sammy outside and run. Go! NOW!” John yelled at Dean, pushing him down the hallway. John turned to go back into the room to save his dead wife, and Dean ran as fast as he could down the stairs and out the front door. He could hear the sirens screaming in the distance, and he ran down the driveway and away from the house. Once he was a safe distance away, he fell to his knees and sobbed. His tears fell onto his baby brothers face, who was frightened and crying, too. Dean bounced him softly and shushed him until they both had calmed down, and Dean kissed his brothers forehead.

“It’ll be okay, Sammy. I’m here for you.”


	2. The Memory Remains

 

Dean awoke suddenly, drenched in sweat and still shaking from his nightmare. Sitting up, he recalled that it was the usual nightmare, that he could no longer remember if it was real or a figment of his imagination. He didn't even have a brother, but it felt too real. He shook his head and got out of bed, grabbing the towel and shampoo he had left by his bed the night before. 

Dean walked across the hall and into the bathroom, thankful that the bathroom was unoccupied at this hour. He closed the door softly and set his things down on the porcelain counter, then looked up at his reflection. He looked like hell. There were bags under his eyes, his skin was pale, and he desperately needed a shave. He sighed and turned the shower on, and shivered as he stepped under the cold stream. He washed up quickly and was out of the shower in a minute, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Looking into the mirror, he sighed and reached under the counter where he hid his razor and shaving cream. None of the other kids needed to shave yet, he was the oldest by far, but he didn’t want them messing around with the sharp edges. He put a generous amount of shaving cream on his hand and rubbed it over his stubble, and began to shave off the beard that had started to form. He liked to have a little bit of stubble left over, it made him feel older and cooler, so he rarely used a sharp razor. 

Once he was done and had put his razor and shaving cream back in it's hiding spot, he picked up his clothes and opened the door to go back to his room. In the doorway, Sonny was standing with his hand raised and ready to knock on the door. Surprised, he let his hand stay in the air for a second more before stuffing it into his pocket.

“Hey Dean, how are you feeling? You came in pretty, ah, late last night,” Sonny asked. Dean rolled his eyes and tried to push his way past Sonny, but Sonny put his other hand on Dean’s shoulder and stopped him. 

Sonny was the foster parent, and had a huge house with about fifteen other kids that he cared for. Dean had been thrown from home to home, being abused in a few, and never loved. After he had lost both of his parents in a fire when he was four, he was taken in by the child protective services. He was a cute kid at first, but in growing up he realized he didn't belong anywhere. Dean was a problematic kid, and he knew it, and felt he deserved to be thrown around. When Sonny took him in a few years back, Dean fought him incessantly. Sonny never took any of his bullshit, and gave him the care he needed anyway. After a while, Dean was finally comfortable with Sonny and the rest of the kids in the home, but he stayed as far away as he could.

“Yeah, I know, sorry if I kept you up. I don't even remember when I came in,” Dean explained hastily.

“Oh, I know. You were throwing up on the porch and passed out when I dragged you in. Boy, I’m just trying to keep you safe. You've got to learn, and soon,” Sonny scolded. “And by the way, do you even know what today is?”

“Umm, national pie day? No idea. Although if it is, that means cheap pie and-“

“No, Dean, today is your birthday.” 

Dean stopped and looked at Sonny, a little surprised. Had he really forgotten his own birthday? And wait, if today was his birthday, that means…

“I’m 18! I’m free! No offense, Sonny, thanks and everything, but I’m legally free. Wow, that’s awesome,” Dean said. He laughed happily, but then it dawned on him that he was going to have to find his own place to live, he was going to have to start paying for his own food, and his clothes. He frowned and looked unhappily at Sonny. “I guess this means you'll have to kick me out now, huh?”

“What? No! Of course not, Dean. You're welcome to stay with me as long as you need to. You can’t stay here forever, and you'll have to move out at one point, but not until you're ready. Although, I got a call from the office today, they said they need you down there today. They usually don't call anyone down on their 18th birthday, but I guess they've got somethin’ special for you,” Sonny said. Dean smiled nervously, and Sonny took his hand off his shoulder. “I’ve also got my own present for you, I think you'll like it. It’s all fixed up now, so go get dressed and I’ll show you.”

Dean gave him an appreciative nod, and walked back into his room. This was pretty unusual, he hadn't ever been called back by the child services before. He shrugged and threw on a black shirt and jeans, paired with worn down boots and his father’s leather jacket. Before he left, he knelt down beside his bed and reached to the far side and felt around to find the small wooden box. Inside was the one other thing beside the jacket that he had from his parents, a bronze amulet that was supposedly a ward against evil. It hadn’t worked yet, but he still held out hope for it. Dean slipped it around his neck and under his shirt, then left his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

In the hallway he bumped into a sleepy girl that was yawing tiredly, and Dean slung his arm around her shoulders.

“Hey there, Chrissy, how’s my favorite jerk?” he teased, and she rolled her eyes. 

“Great, since I never see you around anymore. And thanks for the lessons, I’ve been killing vampires and werewolves! It’s so totally fun,” Chrissy responded, elbowing him. Dean laughed and bumped her with his hip, and she rammed into him in retaliation, but couldn't move him an inch.

“Hah, still not strong enough! And I’m glad to see you’re actually playing my old video games, I didn't think you would like them much,” Dean said. He then proceeded to tickle her sides and she shrieked with laughter. The door to their left opened and a young boys head popped out, tired and angry.

“Keep it down! Some of us are still trying to sleep!” Jesse hissed. 

“Aww, someone is a little grumpy this morning,” Dean smirked. Jesse mumbled something under his breath and slammed the door shut. Dean and Chrissy laughed, and Dean tussled her hair and said goodbye, walking towards the stairs.

“Oh, and Dean?” Chrissy called, and Dean turned back around. 

“Yeah?” 

“Happy birthday, brother.” Dean smiled fondly at her, and she waved and turned to go fight someone about bathroom time. Dean let the warm feeling in his heart spread through out his body, and he went to go meet Sonny with an extra bounce in his step.

 


	3. Carpe Diem Baby

“No way. A car? A freakin’ CAR? Son of a bitch, Sonny, you’re the best!” Dean yelled happily. Sonny grinned as Dean jumped into the front seat of the newly refurbished Chevy Impala, and Dean whooped with joy. He slid his hands over the smooth leather and the polished paint, and sank down into the nicely cushioned seat. “This is the best birthday present ever.”

“I’m certainly glad to see you like it! You know, this car belonged to your old man,” Sonny said, taking the passenger seat. Dean looked at him in stunned silence. “Yeah, back when you were a little tiny kid, you picked this out for him. Mary wanted a van, but no, you weren't having any of that. John put you behind the wheel as a joke and you never let go of it. You were such a defiant boy.” 

Dean sat there, opening and closing his mouth. He finally found his voice to ask Sonny a question. “H-how do you know all of this? I mean, you knew me, and my dad? How’s that even possible?”

Sonny smiled. “I’m the one who sold this same car to your dad all those years ago. We were friends for a little while, used to bring you around all the time. Until, you know, the accident.” Dean nodded, seeming to understand this. 

“S-so you found the car? And you, you found me? How?” Dean stammered.

“Son, I’ve been looking for you since they returned the car back to my shop. I’ve kept this in the back of my old shop for you, the last Winchester, until this day. I thought you should have it, your dad would be so proud to see you driving it,” Sonny said softly. “Should we take her for a spin, down to the office?”

“Yeah, yeah, lets do that.” Dean put the keys in the engine, and turned them until the motor started running. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of his beautiful car, and Sonny laughed heartily, and closed his door, frowning when it creaked. “I’ll fix that when we get back, sorry about that. She's a bit old.”

Dean shook his head no, and told him to leave it. Dean loved the car and everything about it. I mean, come on, this was his dad’s car. HIS dad. And Sonny had somehow managed to save this car, just for him. Dean was so overjoyed, and it brought tears to eyes to think that his dad had sat in this very seat and drove in this very car. He pulled out of the garage and into the street, with a huge grin on his face as he felt the engine rumble beneath him. 

They drove mostly in silence, save for a few grunts from Sonny while Dean learned how to handle the car. When they finally arrived at the child services office, Dean took a big breath before climbing out of the Impala. Sonny gave him an encouraging nod, looking a little on the green side, and told him he would be with him the whole time, and there was no reason to worry. Dean scratched the back of his hands, and Sonny raised an eyebrow.

“Dean, what did I tell you about doing that?” he asked, and Dean stopped and looked down at his scarred hands. They’d been scarred for as long as he could remember, most likely from the fire he had been rescued from as a kid, and it was a nervous habit of his to scratch at the scars. 

“Sorry, I’m on edge. I don’t really know what to expect.” Sonny patted him on the back, and walked with him into the building.  

Inside, it was just like all businesses: ringing phones, cubicles, and conference rooms. Dean walked up to the reception desk and told them his name and asked where he was supposed to go. The lady behind the desk gave him directions to one of the offices on the right with the blinds closed. 

Dean looked at Sonny,  and he gave him another calm nod and guided him over to the room. He took one more deep breath and approached the door, opening it abruptly. The two people inside looked up and smiled, then stood to greet Dean. 

“Hey, Missouri, looking great! I didn't think I would see you again, it’s been a long time. How are your kids?” Dean asked happily as he gave her a big hug. Missouri Mosley had been Dean’s social worker since his parents’ death.

“Oh Dean, you sweetheart. They are doing fantastic! You know, I was about to adopt you myself, but after this nice guy came in and signed your papers, I didn't think I would see you ever again,” she gushed. Missouri shook Sonny’s hand, then introduced Dean and Sonny to the man sitting behind a desk, Uriel. Dean and Sonny shook hands with Uriel, then sat down in the chairs opposite him with Missouri. 

“Sonny, Dean, Uriel is here on account of Dean’s parent’s will. They left him quite a large amount of things, and now that you are of age, Dean, all of it belongs to you,” she explained.

“Yes, there will be plenty for you to digest by the end of our meeting. First and foremost, your parents were very secretive of their wealth. I’m sure you weren’t ever aware. Your mother, Mary, wanted to bring both of you up in a normal household, instead of being spoiled by your fath-“ Uriel began. Dean interrupted him, confused. 

“Excuse me, but did you say ‘the both of you’? It’s just me,” Dean said. Missouri looked at Uriel, and Uriel gave Missouri a surprised glance.

“Did you not know? I am sorry to be the one to tell you this, Dean, but no, you are not the only remaining Winchester.”

“I-i, wait, what?”

“You have a younger brother who survived the fire, Samuel Winchester, or otherwise known as Samuel Singer now,” Uriel stated, before shuffling his papers and attempting to begin talking again. Dean stood up abruptly, and in doing so, flipped his chair over.

“What the actual fuck? I have a little brother, and NO ONE thought it would be important to tell me? I cannot believe this. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Did you know about this, Sonny? Missouri?” Dean ranted. Sonny stood, righted the fallen chair, and forced Dean to sit back down. Dean was breathing heavily, near the point hyperventilating, while Sonny looked for the right words to say.

“Dean, I need you to calm down. Yes, I did know you had a baby brother. But I didn't know he was still alive. I was told he had died in the nursery with your mother and father. I didn't know how to tell you. I’m sorry, Dean,” Sonny asserted. Dean ripped his arm out of Sonny’s grip and slammed his hands down on the table. “Fine. What the hell happened? Why didn't we get to stay together? And can I see him now?”

Uriel gave a frustrated grunt and set his papers back down. “Please, calm down. I will explain these questions, and then after that, we must get back to business. I have more clients than you, Winchester.” Dean took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Alright. After they pulled you both in to the hospital, the police believed it was you that had started the fire, and you had done so out of jealousy and were trying to kill your brother Sam and your mother. You were separated, Sam went to an old friend of John’s, and you were put up for adoption in a state orphanage. We must legally advise you against seeing your brother until he is of age, and even then, I am not sure that would be wise. Samuel Singer is well, and has a happy life with his adoptive family. Would you really want to ruin that?” Uriel posed. Dean sank down in his chair miserably and shook his head slightly. His thoughts raced around his head, too much for him to comprehend at once. He shut the thoughts out of his head, bottling them inside, and sat up straight, clearing his throat. “I understand. What, um, what was the reason for calling me here?”

Uriel sighed and picked up his papers once more. “Good. Dean Winchester, your parents have left you a large fortune in their will. We have called you here today because you are now legally independent, and you are eligible to receive what was left to you. Your father, John Winchester, leaves you partial ownership of his company, now called Roman Industries, and the money he left in a secure bank account, seven hundred and fifty million dollars. You are also the heir to the Winchester Manor, located in New York. Dean, Dean are you listening to me?” Uriel harrumphed and set his papers back down. 

For the second time that day, Dean was stunned speechless. His dad had been rich? This is more than he ever could have dreamed of. _Seven hundred and fifty MILLION dollars_. All his. He didn't have anyone to share with, except for Sam. He would get a portion, wouldn't he?

Then it hit Dean- If he had a little brother, than that meant his nightmares, the reoccurring ones that left him shivering and sweating, were all true. He had really watched his mother burn, he had really let his father run back into the burning room to try to save his mother. The burn scars on his hands had actually been from him trying to stop Mary from burning. If he had just been able to save her in time, John wouldn’t have had to go back to try to save her, if he had tried harder maybe they would both still be alive, but they're not, they're dead and— 

This was too much for Dean to handle at once. He bolted out of the room and slammed the door on his way out. Sonny chased after him, calling his name and telling him to come back.

Dean ran down the hall, out through the back door, and down the back alley before throwing up his breakfast on the pavement. He walked a little bit, trying to clear his head, until he got too dizzy and sat down on the sidewalk. He wiped the tears from his face, and buried his face in his dad’s jacket. He heard murmurs behind him as people pitied his sorry state. He stood up and glared angrily at the small crowd that had formed and yelled at them to fuck off. 

None of it made any sense, but all at the same time, everything was falling into place and revelations continued to run through his head. It was sickening and thrilling all at the same moment, and each new emotion clouded his already pounding head.

He heard the low grumble of the Impala behind him, and spun around to see Sonny driving Dean’s car with Missouri and Uriel looking uncomfortable in the backseat.

“Son, get in the car. It’s okay, we’ll talk about this over some pie to get you feeling better. You didn't have to run,” Sonny called from the front seat. He leaned over and pushed the passenger door open, and Dean wiped his face before climbing in. He sniffed miserabley, and Sonny patted his arm and assured him that things would shape up soon. 

When they got to Dean’s favorite pie and burger restaurant, Biggerson’s, Dean started to feel incrementally better. The smell of sweet apple pie greeted Dean as he walked in, and the waitress smiled at Dean and went to the back to get Dean’s regular order. Here, he was family, and they rarely charged Dean a penny. Dean led the three over to his usual booth by the window, and they sat down, all squishing together to fit in. Uriel tried to pull the papers out of his briefcase, but Sonny stopped him and motioned to let Dean eat something first. Uriel rolled his eyes and slid the documents back in.

Dean stared out the window and across the street at the mystic shop, owned by the lovely psychic, Pamela Barnes. Dean had never actually been in to her store, but he often found himself drawn to stare at the many odd objects on display in her front window. Maybe someday he would finally go in there, and take a look around. 

The waitress came by with Dean’s bacon cheeseburger and warm apple pie, and his face lit up as she set it down in front of him and told him to enjoy. Even though he had just hurled his oatmeal, he dug in with a content look on his face, and he savored every bit of his food.

He finished eating and pushed away his empty plate, determined to get this meeting over with. Uriel took the papers out of his briefcase, an exasperated expression on his face, and he slid them across to Dean.

“I just need you to sign here, acknowledging that you have read the will, which isn't necessary at this moment, but I gave you a short overview of what your parents have left you. Your brother, Samuel, is not eligible to receive any of this will, and that is not either of our decisions, but your parents.” Dean paused from taking a pen from Sonny and looked up, confused.

“They did have an appointment to write him in, but due to their untimely death, they were unable to complete it. When Samuel comes of age, you are able to share your wealth, but that is unadvisable until he approaches you,” Uriel intoned. Dean mustered up the courage and steadied his trembling hands, and he signed the papers where Uriel told him to. 

The last stop they made was at a high end bank just outside of town, where the three adults helped Dean set up his credit cards. Sonny placed limits on his spending until he was older and moved out, much to Dean’s dismay, but he didn't complain. He knew Sonny was doing it out of the best interest for him. Dean signed the last few papers for his card and when Dean put the pen down, Sonny and Missouri cheered and hugged Dean. He was not only an independent adult, but an independent adult with a large sum of money in the bank. Dean allowed himself a small smile, and even with the cloud of darkness in his mind, began to feel pretty good about the rest of his life. 


	4. Hit the Lights / Seven Years Later

Seven Years Later

Dean Winchester roared up the driveway in his Impala, winding around the well manicured garden to park in his big garage. Dean estimated he had a total of about 15 cars in his garage, and most of them were show cars he owned to be auctioned off for charity, and he almost always drove his Impala wherever he went. It was his signature look, he was known for taking the infamous Impala to fancy events and parties. Well, most of the parties he attended were his own, but on occasion he went to others. 

He parked his baby in her spot and tossed his keys to the guard on duty, who locked them in a safe underneath his podium. Dean smiled and bid him a good night, and ducked inside his house, careful not to set off his own house alarms. He dropped his wallet into a bowl by the door, and took off his shoes to walk quietly up the grand staircase. Making too much noise seemed unholy in the big, fragile house. He loosened his red tie as he walked up the stairs, and instead of going straight to his bedroom to relax, Dean wandered through the hallways of his inherited mansion. 

The hallways were dark and quiet, the entire house was unoccupied, unusual for Dean’s life. There was always someone bustling about, either cleaning or running some errand or another. But tonight, Dean had ordered his house to be completely cleared. He needed the peace to walk through and admire the work done by John to put the place together. There was always something Dean missed on his walks around, and it was always exciting to discover new things. Tonight was Dean’s special night, when he took the time to enjoy his life and stop worrying about his rival companies and boring politics. 

Dean stopped in front of a large full length mirror, rimmed with intricate gold carvings, and admired himself. He was the hottest man in the city, and oh, how he knew it. He looked just ravishing in a black suit and tie, and although everyone thought he wore tailored suits, it was really just a cheap suit and tie he had found in a clothing store. 

Dean loved the publicity, he loved being noticed. He felt that it was his compensation for being kicked around as a kid. But the thing he hated the most was being waited on. The reason he had so many servants and butlers were for employment, and Dean offered high paying positions for anyone who really needed a job. He interviewed people almost daily, and gave them a job in either his house or in the Roman Industries. He made more money than he knew what to do with, so he helped the people in need of jobs.

Dean tried to live a normal life, working and doing normal things, but the media and the fame wouldn't let him. So, wherever he could catch a break, he did. He bought his own clothes, his own food, and  worked normal hours at the office as the vice president of Roman Industries. To be fair to his employees, he let them do what they were hired for, and held back his complaints for wanting to do things on his own sometimes. 

As he stood there, looking at himself in the mirror, he knew he was content. He had a great system, and he was happy with the way his life had turned out. And, there was a bonus side to it. Women practically threw themselves at him. What more could a guy want? Dean smirked, and swallowed down the empty feeling that had been chasing him for years.

Despite the fame and the girls, he didn't sleep around. Once in a while he would, but he would normally only go for the classy women. The ones who could control themselves around him. There weren't many out there, and it left an empty hole in Dean’s chest. He had no one; no family, not many real friends, no significant other. The only person he had was a little brother that didn't even know Dean existed. It hurt Dean to think about it, so he shoved the pain down and resolved he would fuck someone later to get rid of the emptiness for a while. 

Dean passed a hand through his neatly combed hair and sighed. He had come so far from so little, and he really was happy. He just wished he could do something about the empty hole in his chest. 

Just as Dean had unbuttoned his shirt a little, he heard a noise coming from downstairs. Immediately he sprinted down the hall, careful not to make any noise, and grabbed a gun he had hidden in the wall behind a replica of a Picasso painting. He walked slowly and quietly along the remainder of the hallway and peered around the corner, looking over the balcony to see if he could spot the intruder. 

Seeing no one, he crept down the stairs, keeping his gun pointed on the entry way that led to the grand hall, and squinted through the dark to make out shapes moving around as quietly as they could. Dean dropped the gun to his s and let out a silent sigh of relief, and slipped back up the stairs to get his shoes. He had managed, once again, to forget his birthday. 

He buttoned his shirt back up and straightened out his tie, and put his silver gun back in its hiding place. Smoothing his hair back, he walked down the stairs, still silent, and made an entrance into the hall. He knocked on the wall and called out.

“Hello? Anybody in here?” A murmur ran through the crowd, and someone flipped a switch. Everyone blinked and yelled surprise, and somewhere a DJ began playing music. Tons of people swarmed Dean, laughing and wishing him a happy birthday. 

Dean spotted Sonny and some of the older kids from Sonny’s foster care home, and he made his way through the crowd to greet him. 

“Hey guys! It’s so great to see you all here! How are you liking the new house?” Dean asked. Sonny pulled him in for a hug, and clapped him on the back. “Well, thanks to you, we’ve got plenty of space and a great location. I brought some with me, they insisted on helping set it up. They disapproved of the last organizer. And of course, I see you haven't lost any of your catlike abilities, none of us heard you come in! It sure is good to see you, boy,” Sonny exclaimed. Dean grinned and went on to say hello to the other kids. The last one was Chrissy, and she leapt onto him and hugged him tight. 

“Happy birthday, brother!! Oh man I haven't seen you in forever. What've you been up to?” She asked, and elbowed him jokingly.

Dean elbowed her back. “Oh, you know, just the usual billionaire stuff. And work, its always fun to be the vice president of your own company.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes, and was about to respond, when an unfamiliar pop song began playing. Chrissy turned around angrily to yell at the others. “Damn it, which one of you hired the DJ? I said clearly, NO POP MUSIC. Dean likes rock, you fuckers. Ugh!” She sighed and put a hand on her forehead. Dean just laughed again and told her not to worry about it.

“So what have you been up to? You're 20 now, right? What college are you attending?” Dean asked her. 

“Yeah, I’m just a couple months away from legal drinking age! I can’t wait for that,” she started, but Dean held a finger up. 

“Stay right here, I’ll be back in one second,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He pushed his way through the suits and dresses, and when he came back, he was holding two glasses of champagne in his hands. “One for you, and one for me. I don't care, you're in my house, and this is my treat for you!”

Chrissy took the glass with a surprised glance, and tried it. “Oh, wow, this is good! Thank you, Dean, and you are such a bad influence.” Chrissy giggled as Dean downed his in one gulp, and set the glass down on a passing waiters’ tray. “So as I was saying, I’m just going to a community college right now, but next year I’m hoping to be accepted to Stanford.”

Dean tightened up when she mentioned Stanford. A couple years prior, Dean had hired a private detective to find and keep an eye on Sam Singer, who was living in northern California with his adoptive father, Bobby Singer, and his wife, Ellen Harvelle, and her daughter, Jo Harvelle. Sam had recently applied to go to Stanford, and the family didn't have enough money to put him through school. Dean was privately sponsoring the kids funding, and sure enough, is going to be accepted in a few short months. The price of the tuition was higher than he liked, but Sam was his brother, and Dean could only do this for him. 

Chrissy noticed that Dean was distracted, and led him into a quieter room. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Is everything okay?” she asked. Dean nodded, and gave her a shaky smile.

“Everything’s fine. I just, ah, forgot that I was supposed to give a speech tonight. Yeah. I’ve never been good at these, and it’s messing with my head that I have to do this,” he lied, and Chrissy gave him a look that let him know she could see right through it. She didn't ask him why he had lied, but instead assured him that all he had to do was tell everyone thanks for coming. 

They walked back out and mingled with the guests, and Dean introduced Chrissy to all his business partners and coworkers. Chrissy made a few friends, and flirted with a few of his coworkers, and Dean smiled and teased her about it. 

When a few of his lady friends began to flirt with him, it was Chrissy’s turn to mess with him. She eventually found a cute guy to talk to, and Dean left them alone to get to know each other. He looked around to see if he could find any of his good friends, and not seeing any, ducked off to the bar to get out of the suffocating crowd. Dean was about to order a beer when he felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around to see a redhead in a bright coral pantsuit. 

“Dean! Hey, my man! How’s it hangin’?” Charlie yelled, and Dean beamed and gave her a hug.

Charlie Bradbury had been Dean’s friend from high school, and they went to the same college in Rhode Island as well. After they had both graduated, Dean took the position as vice president of Roman Industries, and gave Charlie a position as the head of the technology department. She practically lived in Dean’s house, and they pretty much did everything with each other. 

“Charlie! Glad to see you could make it. But what’s up with the bright coral?” he asked.

“What? Oh come on, you love it,” she cried, and punched Dean’s arm. They laughed and chatted for a while, and Dean let her order his drinks for him. After a few oddly orange drinks with umbrellas in them, Dean was good and buzzed, and Charlie was nearly drunk. They laughed loudly and didn't acknowledge the strange looks they were getting.

Charlie looked across the bar and noticed a hot blonde and her pretty brunette friend staring flirtatiously at them, and as inconspicuously as she could, pointed them out to Dean. Dean shifted in his seat and lowered his chin, glancing up at them beneath his lashes and winking. Charlie giggled, and nudged him when the blonde stood up with her friend. 

“Go Freckles! I swear, if I was into guys, I’d be on you in a flash,” she remarked. Dean gave her a playful shove, and she shrugged. 

“I’ve perfected my ‘come over here so I can fuck you’ look over the years. And hey, look, I think that hot brunette is checking you out! Watch, she's going to follow her friend over here. I know it,” he said, and as he finished, the blonde got up and followed her friend over to Dean and Charlie. Charlie raised her eyebrows at Dean, and he smirked and took another sip of his drink. 

When the girls approached them, Dean held out his hand and introduced himself and Charlie, although they already knew who he was. The blonde introduced herself as Bela, and her friend was Gilda. Gilda gave Charlie a small smile and blushed, and Dean gave Charlie a knowing look. 

“So what can I get you ladies to drink?” Dean asked, and Bela took the seat next to him. “Hm, I think I’ll have a beer, and Gilda too,” she replied. Dean waved the bartender over and ordered four beers, it was time Dean had a more manly drink and he didn't know how well Charlie would do with another orange drink. When Dean turned back to Bela, she had her eyes on his lips, and he smirked as seductively as he could.

Bela was a beautiful woman, and she looked lovely in the fancy black dress she was wearing. Her eyes were made up simply with black winged eyeliner, and her red lipstick complemented her perfect white teeth. She ran her hand up his arm as he they talked, and after they had finished their beers, she was leaning in closely and dropped his hand to his thigh. He leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear, asking if she wanted to come upstairs with him. She nodded, and he grabbed her hand as he stood up.

Charlie and Gilda had hit it off really well, and were practically sitting on top of each other. Dean tapped Charlie’s shoulder, and she pulled herself away from Gilda for a moment to take in what Dean was showing her. She nodded and told him she would text him later, and smiled mischievously. 

As Dean led Bela up the marble staircase, she tugged on his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He burst into his room and pulled her in, and turned on the lights. He shoved the door shut and struggled out of his suit jacket, already half hard, and when she set her clutch down on a table, Dean spun her around and kissed her hard. She kissed him and slid her arms around his neck, and she stepped out of her shoes and jumped up, gripping Dean’s waist with her legs. He grabbed her hips and walked over to the bed, then pushed her down and kissed her slowly. She unbuckled his belt while he unzipped her dress, and as Dean was about to slide her dress off, the door to his room opened and light from the hall spilled in.

“Mr. Winchester? I have Richard Ro-“ a waiter started, but froze when he saw Dean and Bela nearly undressed and laying on the bed. They were both glaring at him, but he didn't move. “I-i, uh, I um, I was told you were in here and now I realize that I should have knocked before I came in. Uh, this is awkward,” he stuttered out in a gravelly voice, and Bela shoved Dean off of her. 

“Yeah, this is. I think I should leave, my night just got ruined. Sorry, Dean,” Bela fumed, and grabbed her shoes and purse, attempting to zip up her dress as she left. The waiter, still standing in the door, reached over and did it for her, and she slapped his hands away. She gave Dean one last glare and left without another word.

“Call me?” Dean yelled after her, and when she didn't respond, he groaned and sank down onto the bed with his head in his hands. He sat there for a minute before he realized that the man was still standing there, and looked up at him. When the man realized that Dean was staring at him, he pointed at the door.

“I should, ah, go, but you have an urgent call from Mr. Roman. Alfie would have come to tell you, but he was, um, busy and sent me to tell you,” he said, and awkwardly shuffled out the door. 

“Yes, thank you. I’ll call Dick back later, you can go ahead and leave,” he responded calmly, and the waiter nodded and closed the door as he left.

Dean groaned again and muttered a swear, and flopped backwards onto the bed, closing his eyes. 


End file.
